


Of Things Now Dead and Gone

by Morteamore



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries - L. J. Smith
Genre: Bad Ending, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Canon - Book, Horror, Lovecraftian, Lovecraftian Monster(s), Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence, Sibling Incest, Tentacles, Torture, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 11:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19829356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morteamore/pseuds/Morteamore
Summary: Seeking out the infamous Necronomicon, Damon and Stefan try to resurrect the girl they once both loved. But things don't go as planned, and they end up possibly awakening an ancient and evil terror upon the Earth of cosmic proportions.





	Of Things Now Dead and Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Just something that's been sitting on my cpu for over a decade collecting dust. Thought I'd throw it up for archiving.

Lips parted, he sat with his mouth to his brother's pulse, the older vampire’s heartbeat thrumming against his tongue. His canines ached in anticipation, a desire that plagued his entire being. Unable to hold back any longer he plunged them into the skin, biting down until he broke through to the vein. Blood gushed into his mouth and spilled over his lips, vivid streams of red contrasted against his stark white skin. The only sign that his brother had felt anything was the quickening of his breath. Otherwise he had been silent the whole time.

He hated doing this; Hated himself for doing it, regardless if it involved taking a life or if who he took from was already dead. But it was the only way. He’d scoured the libraries of the world, spent the last few decades reading every volume and passage on the subject. And at last he had found it, in America of all places. A plain leather bound book with metal clasps, _property of Miskatonic University_ stamped on the inside cover. What he was planning took power. Immense amounts, almost more then his brother could offer. It could even incite madness. He was mad himself for falling prey to its temptation. But his brother hadn’t protested when he’d asked. His brother, with narrowed eyes and determination etched into his features, had even agreed to lend as much help as he could.

And so they’d gone with shovels and handmade rope, the moon full and bulbous above them. They’d sweated silently beneath its light, stopping only when they’d reached what they had come for. The sun was peeking over the horizon when they lifted the heavy box in unison, placing it down in the dirt. His brother knelt beside it, caressing its smooth steel finish like a lover. He himself reached with wary hands, grasping the brass bars bolted into it. He hadn’t wanted to lift the cover and glimpse what was inside, the gruesome decay already conjured in his mind. Dead bodies hadn’t been an uncommon sight during his youth. Skin sunken, sightless eyes that looked like glass; And the stench that rose from the carcasses, like rotten meat and human waste.

But none of the horrors he’d imagined were awaiting him when he snapped the locks. Only the faintest scent of mold and dust, and a skeleton the color of dead leaves tucked into the tattered remains of a dress. He gathered the dry and brittle bones in his arms and carried them off. His brother lingered behind for a moment, eyes trained on the enormous mound of dirt they had extracted from the land.

In the darkness the hole beside it looked like a bottomless pit.

**===**

Two nights passed after they had arrived back home until they were ready. The bones, seemingly fragile without the dress to protect them, lay spread on the ground. Cast in salt beneath was the outline of an arcane symbol.

He was shirtless, as he stared down at the arrangement. His brother stood beside him, one hand clutching the handle of a hunting knife.

“This won’t be pleasant.”

“I know. Get it over with.”

His brother moved like a panther stalking prey. He was forced to his knees, head pulled back by the hair. He didn’t like playing captive willingly, had to clamp down on his instinct to fight back. The razored edge of the knife glittered in the moonlight.

And then it was drawn across his throat.

At first it was only a throbbing ache, no more annoying then being nicked while shaving. But then it began to build in waves, a sharp, burning agony that erupted at the wound and cascaded downwards. His breath heaved in his chest like a frightened animal’s, heavy and ragged through clenched teeth. He cried out, twisting in his brother’s grasp. He could feel muscles flexing around and against him, struggling to keep him down. Beneath him his blood dripped steadily on to the dirt, seeping into the circle they had made. It pooled around the skeleton, driven by unnatural forces as it clung to the bones.

The wind picked up around them, lashing out at the trees and bushes, which bowed before its assault. The noise of rustling leaves was deafening. He could hear the rush of his brother’s voice as he shouted into it, speaking in a tongue neither of them had heard before. A language older then man, spoken only by other beings. All this he could tell from the weight of its power. Too late he realized these were words not meant for this world, that not even his kind should utter. He tried to scream at his brother to stop. Shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice going hoarse, his healing wound aching. But, much to his concern and dismay, it was as if his brother has become possessed. The older vampire continued to repeat the words like an ominous mantra until he finally fell to his knees before the circle.

The incantation shifted natures, and the words became Latin, recited in barely a whisper. He realized the wind had died and that here was only a quiet stillness now, as if the storm had passed and they had settled into the eye of it. Crawling closer to the circle, to where the bones lay in a soup of salt and blood, he saw his brother raise the knife and knew what was coming next.

“This isn’t right,” he choked out, his voice raw with emotion and pain.

His brother’s eyes pulsed like black fire.

“Backing out now?”

“Can’t you sense it? It’s-”

“I sense _nothing._ ” There was a desperation to his brother’s voice that he had never heard before, as if he were trying to convince the both of them. “Let’s finish this. Give me your hand.”

His own reluctance only lasted a moment. He stared into his brother’s eyes, trying to fathom the state of his mind, will him to back down before they had gone too far. But he was also moved by the loyalty which he sensed. It had been his idea, after all. This was the measures he’d been willing to go to himself, and his brother was willing to follow. There wasn’t any room for debate as he offered his left hand.

“I’m sorry,” his brother said without emotion.

There was no hesitation nor wait for a reply. His brother clamped his palm like a vice, securing a tight grip, and sliced the blade against the base of his thumb. He flinched, pulling his hand close to his chest, cradling the bleeding stump. Either he had endured enough pain before that he’d become immune, or he’d anticipated much worse. It throbbed, blood spurting down his wrist in a red gush. But it didn’t hurt and he watched, ever fascinated, as the muscles and fibers knitted together like dozens of tiny machines. It wouldn’t regenerate, unfortunately. Not without the original appendage for it to attach to.

There had to be a bodily sacrifice from each one of them, both different in nature but equal in value. While he was nursing his wound, trying not to linger on the loss, his brother sawed through his own ear, wincing as the blade severed cartilage from skin. Wet tissue marred the side of his head like a mangled tumor, red and gleaming. His teeth were gritted, as the knife had gone dull from use. The older vampire had to resort to tearing the flesh away with his hands, a grueling, gory task.

Both the ear and thumb were taken in slick, stained fingers and placed into the circle of blood, the pool swallowing them up like a hungry beast. It churned and bubbled, rising up to devour its prey, the bones disappearing in its depths. They sat waiting, smarting from the abuse they had inflicted upon themselves. But nothing else happened. The circle went as still as the air around them.

After some time, his brother sighed and clamped a hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t move, too distraught by their failure. They had done everything right, sacrificed of themselves. And yet...nothing.

“Sleep with me tonight?” his brother asked as he rose.

He ignored the implications of the request, the flicker of desire that flared up at those words. Annoyed that his brother was taking this in stride, he shook his head. How could he be so apathetic? They had disfigured their bodies and defaced their souls with the forbidden. What they had done could not be reversed. He felt slighted, for their fruitless attempt had come with a hefty price.

“Just don’t stay out here too long.”

His brother turned towards the house, leaving him to his ponderous thoughts.

Xxx

“Stefan?”

Her voice was like the patter of rain on glass. A soft, gentle sound that eased the wariness in his soul and drew him from the darkness. He wanted to wrap it around him, have it seep into his skin and ignite the part of him that had burned with desire when she’d been alive. It had been different with her then it was with his brother. What he’d felt for Damon was merely kinship. They were like wolf cubs born packless, licking each other’s wounds and trying to help one another survive. Not only had she reunited him with the humanity he’d been bereft of for centuries, but she had proven he could move on with his life. And she’d helped his brother too. Maybe not entirely, but no soul could achieve that feat alone.

“Stefan? Wake up.”

It was the realization that the voice was real, not lodged in his dreams, that propelled him awake. He was in his bed, propped on at least a dozen pillows, his body covered in a crust of dark, flaking blotches. He realized it was dried blood; The blood he had shed the night before. What little he remembered flooded back, overwhelming him. He sat up quickly, knocking some of the pillows down.

“Ah, so you’re awake,” came a voice, and Stefan turned toward an armchair by the fireplace where his brother was reclining. The fire was lit, the logs hissing and crackling like angry cats. The golden hands of the clock above the mantle read ten thirty. It was early for the vampires.

Where Stefan had been lethargic upon waking, anticipation had taken over, shaking off the last traces of sleep.

“Damon, what happened last night?” he asked. “Did it work? Is she...?”

Damon stared at him, eyebrows raised. It was only then that he noticed his brother was soaking wet, his hair plastered to his head, his clothes sopping.

“You don’t remember?”

“Only some.”

Damon shrugged.

“Then that’s all you need to know.”

“So she’s not--”

“No.” He seemed to considering something, as Stefan’s eyes dulled to a mossy green. “I’ve prepared some food. Are you hungry?”

“You know I don’t eat unless I have to.”

“Right. You’re weak, though. If you’re not going to join me for breakfast then you should rest some more.”

Though unrelated, his brother’s words struck the memories of what had brought him to consciousness.

“There was a voice calling me in my sleep,” he said as if to himself. “It was her’s. She woke me up.”

At first Stefan thought he saw something pass across Damon’s features, as if he was contemplating an unfathomable concept. But then it was quickly replaced by a look of bored neutrality.

“A dream.”

“It was real. I heard her.”

Damon unfolded from the chair, regarding Stefan as if he were a child who wouldn’t listen to reason.

“There’s no one else here but me.”

Stefan didn’t protest as his brother sighed. He didn’t have the strength, at the moment. As the older vampire turned towards the door, he caught a glimpse of the mauled flesh where his ear had been. Damon hadn’t bothered to bandage it and the skin had healed. But it was puckered and shiny, as if the muscles were still showing beneath. Stefan turned his head away, his eyes avoiding where his own flesh had been severed.

He didn’t want to dwell on such things. Not for a long time.

Xxx

Stefan did not leave his room for the entire day. Sleep was a small comfort, coming in drifts. But his thoughts were like vermin, scurrying frantically through his mind, jarring him awake as soon as he’d fallen into deep sleep. The clock hands moved slowly around, hours feeling like eternity. Though time was of no importance to him, he willed them to go faster, if only to be able to rise from the bed without fear of collapsing. Weak and exhausted, his body ached as an old human’s would. Discomfort was a sign of healing, that the supernatural forces that kept him alive were trying to compensate for the amount of blood he had lost. He knew he’d have to feed to complete the process, but would put it off until his veins burned and his teeth ached. Damon would scoff but would not intervene.

He’d risen from the bed to toss a new piece of kindling into the fireplace when he heard the scream. A distinctively female scream that set all his preternatural senses on edge and made his muscles go rigid. It had come from the second floor directly above him. Instinctively he looked up, knowing that Damon’s room was there. Sometimes his brother entertained meals in their home. And on rare occasions there’d be a human who could resist his powers which, to Stefan’s disapproval, resulted in a death.

Ten minutes ticked by on the clock, and Stefan heard nothing more. Resigning himself to the fact that there would be a body to deal with in the morning, he let his guard down and crawled back to bed.

Xxx

She was on top, thrusting hard against him. His face nuzzled at her neck, his mouth parting to taste her flesh, imbibe her. He craved to tap her veins, assuage his hunger with her blood. But he held back, letting the need spurn him as he met her thrusts. His efforts turned frantic, became animalistic as the bloodlust lapped at him like an electric pulse. He shoved her off him, down to the grass, where he entered her snarling. Her hips arched to meet his halfway, her face twisted into a snarl of her own. Teeth as sharp and numerous as a Great White’s snapped closed around his shoulder, tearing at him as if he were no more then a piece of meat. He grunted in discomfort, whimpering as nails dug in to his back, where they burrowed in deep until they scraped his bones. He could smell the scent of blood as it permeated the air, his instincts surging against their reigns. The weight of his lengthened canines was like an anchor that wanted to haul him towards her unblemished skin; Liken them to two predators, locked in an embrace of claw and fang.

“Open your eyes,” he heard her growl. “Look at me.”

He hadn’t realized they were closed until he obeyed.

And what he saw made him rear back.

What was spread beneath him was not human. Shards of bone had broken through patches of withered skin, which hung limply like torn wallpaper from her frame. Only one of her eyes was intact, the other having burst in a black curtain that ran down her cheek. Her lips were cracked and torn, rotten teeth protruding in a rictus, and her nose had been shorn off. The remains of her hair swung like white strands of webbing across her shoulders as she reached out to him with a skeletal hand.

“Stefan,” she said.

Even her voice had changed, shaky and frail like an old woman’s. He stared at her with eyes gone a brilliant jade, feeling like a criminal caught in the act; Unable to move, or fathom what was happening.

“Stefan,” she said again, as she came for him, caressing his chest with her exposed bones. Something dark crossed her rotted features, twisting them into further disfigurement. “I didn’t say we could stop.”

Her tongue was black and wet with thick saliva when she bent to lick him, taking one of his nipples into her mouth. He gasped as he felt it scrape the nub of flesh like sandpaper against his skin, resisted knocking her corpse away in disgust as she worked her way down between his legs. It was not until her mouth slid around his erection, great, burning pain coursing up into his abdomen from where she held him clamped between her teeth, that he realized her intentions. He grabbed her by the head and pushed her aside, a gesture that was far from gentle. With the sound of a dozen branches being snapped in half, her body crumpled to the ground and went still.

His skin was raw and pink where she had licked it, sore where the force of her tongue had scrapped it off. Under a rain of fresh blood that still seeped from the lacerations, his crotch was smeared with gossamer strands of saliva. It was by shear will that he kept himself from retching, as he worked to wipe it from his body. And he was so occupied with the task that he didn’t see the thorned tendrils of flesh snaking across the ground, creeping closer to him. Not until it was too late and they had reared up, coiling around his limbs in a crushing grip. He felt the thorns push into his body, yelled as they ripped and tore at him. They pulled him upward, a living source of agony as they suspended him above the ground. His urge to fight them was thwarted by rational thought. If he fought, then they’d only constrict him more, bite into his organs with their false teeth. Breathing hard, he kept himself still, awaiting their next infliction.

More came from the shadows, slinking forth in droves; other types of creatures with eyes that shone like harvest moons and claws that twitched in the anticipation of bloodshed. He could hear the whispering rush of their voices, the cackles that broke like static from their throats. It sounded like hell’s chorus to him, mocking and ridiculing in words he didn’t understand.

And then she was looming before him. Not the brittle skeleton, or the decaying creature, or the half-animal with the sharp teeth, but the woman he had once loved. Her eyes were a vivid blue, like the lapis ring he wore for protection. Her hair was golden silk. The smile that she gave him was touched by grief.

He swallowed hard at her presence.

“You don’t know what you’ve done,” she said, barely breathing the words.

It was the voice he remembered. Her real voice, unchanged by the decades that had passed since she’d gone.

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her face. He wanted to reach out and brush them away, his instinct to pull her into his arms, but the tendrils still held him captive.

“What you’ve turned me into– it’s a condemnation. You’ve condemned me to hell.”

He looked stricken, as if she had dealt him a blow. His lips parted, but no sound came out. He could find no words to answer her, or those to comfort. Hanging from the ropes of flesh like a lynch victim, numb to the constant throbbing where they penetrated his body, he could merely gaze at her.

“And now,” she continued in a tone gone icy, edging towards the shadows as she turned away, “Because you’ve been driven by selfish desire, I condemn you as well, Stefan.”

The blackness surged forward, enveloping her, and the clamor of voices rose like a tidal wave. He could sense the lust of its minions, their giddiness at having been granted allowance to sup on his soul. As the tendrils pulled tighter, he braced himself for the onslaught, and felt as well as heard the crunch of his bones reverberating through his body. They burst through his skin from the constriction, like a bug beneath someone’s heel, entrails ruptured and smeared. Yet he felt nothing, just a yawning pit of despair gaping wider and wider inside him as he succumbed to his fate.

He woke up with the sheets twisted around him, drenched in sweat.

Xxx

“It does sound quite vivid.” Damon sat at the kitchen table flipping through the newspaper, not bothering to glance up at Stefan. “And you have a more perverted mind then I’ve ever given you credit for. But it’s still only a dream, and to be expected. We put ourselves through hell.”

Sitting opposite his brother, Stefan folded his arms and rested his head on them. Upon waking he hadn’t gone back to sleep, just laid in bed purging himself of the residue the dream had left clinging to the creases of his mind. It had felt real, so much that he had checked himself over for injuries. But there weren’t any marks on him, just welts from where the sheet had dug into his skin. Like the imprints of thorned vines, he had thought, as he freed himself from the entanglement.

“I need to go into town today,” Damon said, folding up the paper.

With eyes sunken, dark smudges like bruises beneath them, Stefan regarded his brother. He was recalling the night before, the scream that had echoed through the house like the wail of a dying animal. He shuddered, suddenly chilled.

“Did you get rid of the body already?” he asked, wondering if his brother had saved him from the unsavory task.

“What body?”

“Last night. I heard screaming. I figured you’d had an uncooperative meal and resorted to desperate measures.”

It was easier for him to think of them as meals rather then people, so that when he helped discard their remains it wouldn’t lay too heavy on his conscience.

Damon looked taken off guard, face drawn in contemplation. It was something Stefan was not used to witnessing.

“No.”

The smug grin, however, was, as the older vampire turned one on and off instantly.

“That’s not much of an explanation,” Stefan commented.

“I can’t divulge all my secrets.”

Stefan rubbed his face, knowing it was futile to pry. Damon wasn’t being forthcoming, and no amount of persuasion was going to change his mind. Instead he crossed the room, pushing the drapes aside to peer out the window.

“Rain.” his brother commented. Sensing his presence, Stefan turned to find him standing close by. “It’s been raining off and on since yesterday. It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up.”

“Think we had something to do with it?”

“Don’t be asinine.”

“We’ve been through stranger. Anyway, town will be flooded. You might want to hold off until it stops.”

“Well, since you asked nicely.”

Stefan didn’t protest as Damon’s mouth descended on his own. It was an embrace that was familiar to him, as he was pushed up against the wall, their bodies colliding. And after a moment he allowed himself to meld with it, losing himself in sensation as his brother reached to undo his clothing.

xxx

The garden was barricaded by a wrought iron fence of intricate design, and the green paint had rusted through from neglect. It was a lush place, framed by a colorful arrangement of Bougainvilleas and Oleanders, among more unassuming bushes. Koi darted and swam through a pond centered in the middle of the grounds, the gurgling of water the only noise that pierced the night.

She was sitting on a stone bench, bathed in a sliver of moonlight that broke through the canopy of trees. Blood red were the eyes she trained on him as he approached, and crimson stains adorned them like macabre eyeliner. He sat down beside her, wary, as he had not forgotten what had previously transpired. He was not afraid of her. Even if she had cursed him, left him to be tortured, he could never be afraid of her.

“Of things now dead and gone,” she muttered.

He didn’t understand, but didn’t question her.

“Oh, Stefan, I wish you’d never brought me back.”

Brought her back? But he hadn’t. What he and his brother had done hadn’t worked. He’d sat before the circle all night, watching, waiting for her. But the blood that he’d shed only sunk slowly into the earth, saturating the dirt and turning it to mud. The bones had lain as he’d originally arranged them, slick and gleaming but silent. He didn’t remember but imagined Damon must’ve come for him at some point and brought him inside.

Her arms were around him suddenly, delicate as the branches of a dead, bare tree. When he returned the embrace he could feel her bones protruding, shifting as if alive. Against his fingers he felt them punch through her skin, a host of tangled, fleshy feelers unfurling from the wounds. She made a noise that sounded like a demon gasping for breath, and opened her mouth wide. Impossibly wide. There weren’t any teeth, or a tongue. Just a mass of fat, wriggling flesh that resembled a swarm of leeches.

Horrified but determined not to cringe, he held fast to her. The mouth loomed closer, the host of beings within reaching out towards him like the arms of a squid. He felt one brush his lips, tasting of ashes and soil, slimy to the touch.

And then it pushed inside him.

His struggles were silent, as his throat constricted around the intrusion. Writhing, he fell to the ground, feeling it plunge deeper. Past his lungs, down to his heart, where it coiled around the organ like a lover. Blood welled up as it squeezed, frothing past where it protruded from his lips  
.  
Above him, where there would normally have been stars, the night sky was riddled with mouths like black holes, their red-flecked teeth grinning down. Blood seeped forth from them like rain, spattering the garden. It hissed where it struck him, eating at the flesh, the wounds spreading to expose the pearly bones beneath. He flailed wildly, his body spasming until his skin had sloughed off into a ragged, twitching pile. What remained of him was only a skeleton, organs cradled in a network of pulsing tentacles.

Around him the garden had turned a vivid scarlet, awash in blood.

And within his rib cage, clutching the heart that still beat there, he felt her feelers convulse, rupturing muscle and vein.

Xxx

Stefan licked at his canines, tasting the remains of his meal. Fox first, and then, when he’d still found himself hungry, an eight point buck. The animal had been aggressive, thrashing its horns against the underbrush, grunting and snorting. He had felt that vitality surge into him, as he’d drunk it dry.

It was late afternoon and the rain had finally stopped. Subdued by sexual release, scent of come and sweat clinging to him, Damon had ventured into town. Stefan had been left alone with his thoughts and, not wanting to reflect on them, distracted himself with the television set. He’d managed to waste an hour before a sudden sense of wariness came over him. Without realizing how tired he was, he’d fallen into a deep sleep.

As he entered the house, he wished he had willed himself to stay awake. The second dream had come, worse then the first. And so real that when he’d awoken his mouth had been swollen, bruises of dark purple and brown adorning his chest. When Damon came home, he would confide in him. He was sure the marks would linger until then.

For now he made his way up the staircase, heading towards the study. The leather bound book where he had found the means of resurrection was still where he’d left it resting on the desk. He sat down, opening and skimming through the pages until he had found the one he had book marked. Unlike the incantation itself, the instructions were in Latin, a language that came as easy to him as his native Italian. He read them over several times, but could not see where he and his brother had gone wrong. They’d done everything in the exact order it was written, and their personal sacrifices had been adequate.

But maybe they’d overlooked something. His eyes raked over the first passage, the one that detailed the blood sacrifice. Thinking he might’ve misinterpreted it, he began to decipher each sentence individually.

_In moonlight, a sacrifice of blood must be offered, extracted by blade. Useless are the lame and the sick.. Only the pure in health will do._

He hadn’t gotten far when he heard the steady, rhythmic thumping. Distracted, his gaze automatically drifted to the ceiling. Not until he heard the noises again, beating like a phantom heart, did he realize it was coming through the wall behind a mahogany bookcase. He stood in front of it, listening, but the sound seemed to have stopped as soon as he had gotten up.

“I took out some films from the rental place,” Damon’s voice drifted over to him.

Startled, Stefan spun around, staring at his brother. Concentrated on the strange, sudden noises, he hadn’t heard him come in.

Damon eyed the book he held tucked against his side.

“Still reading that?” he asked, not waiting for an answer, and sighed. “Here, give it to me.”

“I heard something.” Stefan’s fingers twitched against the book’s metal clasps. He moved to offer it, then decided otherwise. “It was coming from the other side of this wall.”  
“You know as well as I do that this is a corner room. Give me the book.”

Without waiting for Stefan to protest, Damon reached out and snatched it from his hand. He said nothing as he carried it over to a shelf and placed it in a metal box resting there, locking the lid and pocketing the key.

“I advise you to forget about her, Stefan. She’s dead. A pile of bones and a few months of memories. There isn’t any source of power in this world that can bring her back. That book is nothing more then a hoax penned by charlatans. It can grant power, yes, but none of the nature you’re seeking. Nothing can do that.”

The words were painful, poisoned further by Damon’s steadfast belief in them. Though they provoked him, Stefan squared himself and kept his thoughts rational.

“I had another dream,” he dead panned, as if countering the effects of his brother’s speech.

“You don’t need to tell me. I’m sure it was more of the same.”

“Yes, and no.”

With pale fingers he flicked open the buttons of his shirt, pulling back the fabric to reveal his battered chest.

Damon’s eyes narrowed, and he was silent for several moments before wetting his lips.

“What happened?”

“She did it to me. In the dream....”

Reluctant to revisit the details of his torture, his voice trailed off.

“Somehow I doubt it.”

“It’s her. She didn’t want us to bring her back. What we did was wrong.”

“We didn’t. And *you* were the one who was wrong. It was not my idea to go digging up her grave. I only agreed to help as I know you wouldn’t have been able to handle such a task alone.”

Stefan’s eyes flashed like a cat’s in the night.

“Didn’t we?” Growing quiet and serious, the younger vampire’s voice had taken on an eerie tone. “I sat out there all night, and woke up in bed. But, strangely, I don’t remember what happened after we finished, or how I ended up in the house.”

“ _Nothing_ happened. I noticed you hadn’t come back in by dawn and found you asleep in the pouring rain.” Damon scoffed. “I should have left you out there.”

“What are you keeping from me?”

“I have no reason to lie to you.”

“I think you might. Where are her bones, Damon? Did you bury them? Lock them somewhere in the house?”

A growl erupted From Damon’s throat, purely animal. Swiftly he closed the distance between them, shoving Stefan’s body against the bookcase, the words he barked laden with resentment.

“It was nothing but a fucking skeleton, Stefan, no use to anyone. And no longer her, regardless of what you might think. I burned it and buried its ashes.”

He had never heard his brother’s voice so close to the breaking point, so close to shouting. It jarred him, his reaction tangled in confusion. Any further provocation would surely push Damon over the edge, and he bit down on his tongue before he could bait him to such measures.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” was all he said.

“I let the past consume me once already,” Damon replied, leaning in close. “It didn’t benefit me the slightest.”

Stefan could see that his canines had lengthened, the points as razor sharp as a snake’s. He knew his brother wanted nothing more then to sink them into his skin at that moment. He could sense the tremendous effort it took to fight the urge.

“Believe me, Stefan. We didn’t bring her back. Nothing can. As for your dreams, you’ll sleep with me tonight. I can persuade you to stop this madness, I’m sure of it.”

Damon’s words rang hollow, as he pulled away. Stefan knew that there was more to the strange occurrences then that, more then his brother was letting on.

But what, he could only speculate.

Xxx

Later that evening Stefan found himself on his back, his brother deep inside him, their bodies entangled. Damon’s mouth grazed his, sucked and bit his lips, but Stefan’s mind was miles away. He was thinking of her in the first dream, her zombified corpse as he had made love to it. No, that was not what they had done. Their coupling had been savage, fueled by the most basic of lusts.

Something soft and pliant, like a damp sponge, slid against his balls and towards his erection. Immediately he was thrown from the nest of his thoughts. Damon’s body was as familiar as his own, every crease of skin and plane of muscle stamped into his mind. And what he’d felt wrapping around his cock, making his breath hitch in his chest, hadn’t been his brother. Trying to concentrate through the haze of pleasure, he braced his arms against Damon’s shoulders, stilling him.

There were black, cavernous sockets where his brother’s eyes had once been, flecks of gold and orange wavering in their depths like lights on a night sea. The older vampire cocked his head, and Stefan saw that the skin that had healed over his severed ear was spewing pus and pinkish fluid. He knew he wasn’t asleep this time, that the dreams had spilled forth into the waking world. Panic swelled in his mind, reigning its fist down upon his ecstasy. As the feelings warred with each other he scrabbled at the abomination above him, trying to dislodge it. But the creature hunched its back and burrowed itself deeper, thrusting with alien protrusions, swelling within him as it groaned in the voice of something dead and petrified.

Out from between their bodies crept a cluster of tentacles. They surged forward, slithering and swaying like serpents as they joined the appendage that was already grasping Stefan’s cock. He arched his back as the supple flesh rippled like the muscular foot of a slug, milking him. Pleasure overrode all other sensation as it erupted in his groin and roiled through him. His orgasm built quickly, his body feeling as if it might split apart from the force. Damon’s growls of satisfaction, like the low, monstrous rumble of a sleeping beast, were accompanied by the howl that was wrenched from Stefan’s throat. His orgasm spurted on to the clutching tentacles like a geyser, forcing him back against the mattress. Hands digging into his older brother as his body was seized by violent tremors, he felt the flesh tearing away in his grip, lodging under his fingernails as he held on.

But his brother wasn’t finished with him. Damon pulled the tentacles back, relinquishing his grasp as he bent to lick Stefan’s semen with a plump, squirming tongue. It was only then that the younger vampire realized that the appendages were sprouting from between his brother’s legs, quivering like severed tails where his genitals should have been. Some of them were stained red, hanging limply apart from the others. Stefan knew where those particular ones had been, the parts of him that had been violated throbbing with a dull ache as he slid from the bed. His brother regarded him, looking down with the expression of a curious cat. Then he leapt to the ground, landing on limbs that were thin and elongated, ending in curved hooks that resembled claws.

Stefan propelled himself upwards and towards the door, reaching for the handle. But a tendril lashed out and wrapped around his wrist, stopping him. Another cut through the air and coiled around his other arm. He strained against them, but they were stronger then steel chains. He was locked in their grasp, feeling like a fish skewered on a hook as they drug him backwards.

Looking behind him was a mistake. Damon was in the process of changing, his body bowing and twisting as it took on an unearthly form. One that froze the blood in Stefan’s veins, as he gazed upon its grotesque mass. He was fighting not to let fear ensnare his mind, but he knew it was a battle in which victory would not to ensured. Before him was a creature like nothing he’d ever seen or faced before. It was something out of his most horrifying nightmares; An abomination. Bones jutted outward from its shiny, exposed muscles like spiked armor. It’s massive, semi-transparent head was engorged with blood, bulging from its neck like a malign tumor. And its fingers, laced with thorns, were little more then ropey vines. When it opened its mouth to speak, the sound was like a thousand insects screeching at once. Stefan couldn’t understand the words, nor make out what it was saying. He stared it down, awaiting its next move.

But it never came. Floorboards creaked beneath his feet, groaned and cracked like lumbered trees. The ground was buckling, giving way under their weight. Segments of it broke off, tumbling down into darkness. He didn’t know what to make of this new obstacle, only that he was standing upon unstable ground. Estimating he had only moments before the whole floor collapsed, he considered making a run for it. But there was still the abomination to deal with, and the fact that it had once been Damon.

His indecision was what hindered his escape. Just as he concluded that attempting to flee was his best option, the creature let loose a mighty roar and dove into the broken partition beneath them. Still bound by its tentacles, Stefan was carried off behind it, plummeting down into the dark abyss.

xxx

The descent had not been pleasant.

Tethered like a dog on a chain, Stefan had felt the weight of the abomination dragging him along. For hours it lead him deep into the earth, towards a hellish chamber that existed only in the confines of his mind; A place that ran with rivers of gushing lava and was inhabited with the soot bodied beings of theological lore. He was blind here, in the absence of light, and so he braced himself for the worst. Somewhere below him he thought he could hear the crash of waves as they broke against the shore.

He landed in a pile of rubble, the shattered remains of rocks glowing vibrant green, slimy against his naked body. The creature continued to hold fast to him – he could see it a few feet ahead, now that they had entered an illuminated chamber- until it came to a halt at the base of what he assumed was a clump of braided vines. Only then did it release him, drawing the tendrils back against its groin. Scrambling up on to the structure, it bent its head low, crouching like an animal about to pounce. He saw one of the fat, squirming vines draw back from the others and extend along the ground. It wasn’t a vine at all, but a tentacle set with deep creases and scars. Soon the rest of the tangle followed, unfurling like the coils of a spring upon release. Some ascended towards the blackness above, careening in the air, while others wriggled forward, encircling him. Regarding the scene with its incandescent eyes, the creature that had been Damon found a new perch on a broken pillar. For the first time Stefan felt the power that clung like a feeding tick to its presence. It was the only insight he was offered to what he was dealing with.

Unlike the previous times, he knew he wasn’t dreaming. So when he saw the huge, terrifying spiral of serrated teeth centered amongst the pulpy mass, and the form that was emerging from between them, he couldn’t hold back the tremors that took hold of him. Brave as he was, what lay before him was of a different caliber then the threats he had known throughout the centuries. These were not demons, or creatures of darkness. The myths he’d heard whispered in his youth, the legends and fireside tales, had turned to truth. He knew, in the shadowed corners of consciousness, that these beings were not of this world, born from seeds that had never been cultivated by human hands. And as the weight of the realization cowed him, he was overcome by another appalling one.

Protruding like a malformed tongue, fused to its monstrous gullet by a throbbing strand of human limbs and dark green tentacles, was Elena’s living body.

Stefan didn’t need an explanation. His anguish rushing from his throat in a mournful cry, he crumpled to his hands and knees.

But suddenly he was being lifted , strong arms winding under his and setting him back on his feet. He turned and found himself staring at his brother’s face. Not the malformed creature Damon had transformed into, but the dark haired, pale man that he knew as a companion and lover.

“How did you get here?” Damon demanded, turning him around and shaking him. “You shouldn’t have come.”

Through the chaos of his mind, Stefan rooted out the means to answer. His voice was weak and clamped in the vice of despair.

“You took me here against my will.”

“I couldn’t of have. I’ve been here most of the evening. *She* must have brought you.”

A sound like something being submerged in hot oil cut through their conversation. It was the abomination, still sitting atop the pillar. It lips had drawn back from its teeth and the thorns on its fingers clacked against the stone as if they were chisels The flesh that held Elena pinioned shifted its massive form over to the creature’s side, leaving a glistening trail of mucous where it dragged along the floor. Elena’s arms were like withered rope as she caressed its bloated head. Stefan regained enough of his wits to be confused, as he had thought the abomination to have been inhabiting Damon’s body. Yet his brother had clearly stated that he had not been in the bedroom. Had, in fact, been down in this strange, alien place. He stared at Damon, completing the picture now that he had acquired all the pieces of the puzzle.

“You knew,” the younger vampire said, watching both the abomination and the creature that was Elena with a sense of apprehension and awe.

Damon didn’t bother to feign ignorance. He stood in silent confirmation.

“You knew,” Stefan repeated. “The dreams, the noises in the house– you could’ve told me what was going on, instead of lying all this time. I would have been strong enough to handle it.”

“You need to leave,” Damon remarked, ignoring the words. “Now.”

The abomination made another threatening sound as it crawled from its perch, setting Stefan’s hair on end. It advanced towards the two of them, Elena’s appendages parting to give it passage.

“I’m not going to just walk away from her,” Stefan argued. “She’s alive, Damon. And she doesn’t belong here.”

“That isn’t for us to decide. Can’t you see, little brother? You condemned her to this the moment you decided to use that book.”

Stefan’s reply never formed on his tongue. Soaring in an arch that was all too graceful for its cumbersome form, the abomination leapt at him. Its tendrils struck out like spears, piercing his body as he was knocked to the ground, drilling into him until they punched through to the other side. He screamed and tried to twist away, but it merely struck again, ripping him open as if devouring him.

“Goddam you!” he thought he heard his brother shout.

But it was hard to hear him above the wet slurping noises ringing in his ears. He felt his organs shifting inside him, splitting like meat under a blade as they were punctured.

And then there was a roar and the tendrils withdrew. Stefan's body was racked with acute, throbbing pain where they had pierced him. He lay on his back, blood gurgling in his throat as his breath came rapid and shallow.

Inches away, Damon held the abomination pinned beneath him. It snapped its teeth, its tendrils thrashing. Damon pulled back his fist, ramming it into the creature's head with the force of a charging bull. Fluid splattered him, thick with chunks of squishy substance, bursting like pus from a festering sore.

"Bastards," Damon breathed, striking it again. "How dear you touch him."

The noises that rose from its throat was like cats being tortured, a howling shriek that seemed to echo on and on. Stefan’s ears were ringing from the effect by the time the creature finally shuddered and went still.

From behind his brother arched Elena's tentacles, twining around his torso. The older vampire bellowed in protest, his form rippling. The black wolf was a smaller target, supple and agile. One of its ears was missing, a bald patch stretched across where it had been cropped at the base. It wriggled free of its constraints, darting through the writhing maze of flesh. Stefan groaned as its teeth caught him by the skin and hauled him along as if he weighed nothing. He saw Elena growing further away, her malformed fingers reaching out towards them. The look that was etched across her face wrenched at his heart.

"Damon, stop," he said, struggling to speak. "Stop. We have to help her."

/Help her?/ came the incredulous reply in his mind. / She's beyond our help, little brother, beyond anyone's./

"No. Whatever that creature is, its holding her against her will."

/That thing _is_ her. You know nothing of the situation and you aren't in any state to argue./

"Let me go. I’m not leaving here without her!"

Wrenching its massive head, the wolf flung Stefan with all its might. He whimpered as he landed several feet away.

"Perhaps you should of thought of that before you tried to resurrect her."

The animal had transformed back into Damon, and he crouched beside Stefan, his eyes glittering like black marble. The animosity in his voice was unmistakable. Only moments ago he had been in full defense mode, striking down the creature that had tortured Stefan. But now the younger vampire had become the object of his brother’s fiery rage.

Stefan couldn't fathom the shift in personality.

"You had as much a part in it as I did," he said, voice thick with discomfort. His injuries had began to heal, though he was still in a weakened state as he righted himself.

"I merely agreed to help."

"You recited the words, you made a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice of un-living flesh, or haven't you realized that's where we went wrong?" Damon sighed, seeming to have forgotten his anger at his brother in favor of more important matters. "Oh, we did everything right. And we should have succeeded. But the book of the dead was not meant to be wielded by those dead themselves."

Stefan's face looked stricken, as if he’d been punched in the gut. Like translucent green glass, his eyes had glazed over, and he trained them first on Elena’s form and then his brother. He said nothing for several minutes, speaking only once he had absorbed the full impact of the situation.

"We did this to her," he stated.

“And she’s resented us since. It’s the price of our insolence, Stefan. Believe me when I say there’s nothing we can do to ease her suffering.”

Voice like the edge of a sharpened stick, Stefan hurled it at his brother’s body, aiming for his vitals.

“You want me to trust you, after you’ve been keeping all this from me?”

“I did so for good reason. The dreams you’ve been having are only a glimpse of what she’s capable of. She’s not human or vampire anymore, but something else. Ancient forces of evil, Stefan. I’m sure you’ve heard the tales. And she wishes only for our destruction. Your’s more so then mine.”

“Then what do we do?” he asked him, fearing what the answer might be.

“Nothing. We leave and we don’t come back.”

“And what about her haunting my nightmares, or even reality? I didn’t get here by dreaming, Damon. I was awake. That creature, it was in our home, posing as you. It had its way with me, and I didn’t even sense it; It was *inside* me.”

“I know ways to keep her and her minions from reaching us.”

“And that’s our plan? Keep her at bay, locked in a hell that we had a hand in creating while we go on with our lives?”

“We didn’t create these beings, Stefan, only tethered her to them. We’ll find a way to free her. We have all eternity.” Damon sighed, holding out his hand. “Now come on. There are things slumbering here that I’d rather not have notice our presence, and I know the way out.”

Stefan regarded the offering, looking his brother over. Damon seemed as if he had resigned himself to the inevitable, his words firm but shallow. The younger vampire recognized it as a defense mechanism, and it was then that he knew that what they had done was irreversible. Like the phoenix of legend, Elena had risen again. And because of their mistakes the darkness had come creeping from deep within the Earth, snatching her from their awaiting arms with slimy, festering coils.

His heart heavy with the weight of truth, Stefan’s protests died before he could evoke them, and he let Damon haul him up. As they headed for a yawning, vined cavern that glowed the dull green of jungle canopies, Stefan glanced back at the tentacled beast. Elena had settled against the rows of its teeth like a child cradled in the womb. Her eyes were as wary as her face, glowing a faint jewel blue as she watched the two of them leaving. When he could bare to look upon her no longer, he turned away.

Stefan noticed Damon had not followed his gaze, nor did he look back.

Not even once.

Xxx

Stefan had not dreamed for a month, but neither had he had much sleep. As a vampire he didn’t need it, though it wore him down in subtle ways. For the last couple of weeks his eyes had been puffy and red, lined with scarlet veins. Through the nights he sat vigil over where Damon claimed to have buried the ashes of Elena’s bones, the days spent in the comfort of his brother’s bed. Sometimes they fucked, sweating and grunting against the sheets, Stefan trying to forget the abomination that had violated him with its swollen protrusions; To forget the creature he had bared witness to deep within the Earth’s crust. On other occasions they merely kept each other company, discussing the mundane, going about their ordinary business. It was on a moonless night that Damon decided to accompany him to the makeshift grave. They sat side by side, looking anywhere but at each other.

With a handful of hours having ticked by, Stefan’s spirits rose a notch when Damon finally shifted position. His older brother hadn’t said much regarding Elena’s fate since they’d emerged from the strange chamber beneath the ground. His first thoughts were that Damon was finally going to confide in him. But the theory quickly died as Damon reached out and shoved him to the ground. Lust welled up, as the older vampire held him with his wrists pinned above his head. He felt himself grow erect, anticipating what was to come. But when his brother merely stared down at him he knew he had misjudged his actions. There was a hunger in the older vampire’s eyes that had more to do with the predator that he was then with anything sexual.

“There’s been something I’ve been meaning to reveal to you,” Damon said. “You should’ve known a long time ago. But I had to be sure of what measures you’d be willing to take.”

Damon’s voice was like an arctic wind, setting unease churning in Stefan’s guts. His mouth felt like a dry desert valley as he waited for his brother to continue.

“You wanted to bring Elena back into this world. But because of what you and I are, you failed and turned her into something unnatural.”

As he saw the slew of tentacles slowly unfurling from his brother’s body, the unease became a potent source of discomfort. Like fat, fleshy fingers they grasped at him, bile and acid rising, filling his throat. Turning his head away, he purged himself of the foul liquid, coughing and sputtering as it splattered the ground.

His brother’s eyes had bled to a fiery red, ringed with gold and orange, like the heart of a flame. Long, tapered thorns crowded his mouth, which had become a vertical slit, severing his face when it yawned open.

“I kept her hidden away and told you to forget about her, that it was impossible to help her.”

Stefan’s scream was cut off by a tentacle winding around his mouth, wriggling down and caressing his throat.

“But it isn’t. I needed you to look upon her and accept what she is, what fate would befall us if you agreed, and so I mislead you. I’ve been studying her plight ever since her resurrection went awry. And I know that we can claim her once again, little brother. Just like you wanted.”

There were more of them now, emerging like clusters of snakes from Damon. They rustled the grass, surrounding Stefan. Along his body, they slithered, pulling him into their embrace. He felt them enter him, dig deep into his viscera.

“We’ll become servants of the forces she’s bound to, cultivate the power they grant us. We’ll free her from their hell.”

The tentacles became grapples, hooked into his organs. They pulled him apart like a scrap of food between the jaws of a starving animal, swarming the bloody chambers of his broken body.

“We’ll regain her love. And she’ll be at our sides again. This time, truly, for all eternity.”

Like sinister green veins, the tentacles tangled around themselves, forming new tissues and fibers as they coalesced. Under the moon, above Elena’s grave, Stefan convulsed inside the living enclosure; Transcending his humanity as they invaded him like alien spawn.

The cavern of his mouth gaped in a salivating grin, Damon watched the transformation, waiting for him to be born anew.


End file.
